A Week at the Ritz
by Pointless Things
Summary: After two years of separation, Reed and Alfred unexpectedly run into each other in New York City. Will the spark be as bright the second time around? IN PROGRESS


This story has been brewing in me for quite some time and I feel like it's time to release it into the world.

I also wrote another Alfred/Reed fic called The Prospect of Love and this fic will be in that same universe, which basically means that Reed's first name will be Lucy (though everyone calls her Reed. Kinda like how everyone calls Schmidt, "Schmidt" on New Girl.)

I don't know if I'll continue this fic, but stay tuned.

This story is dedicated to the wonderful and talented **gothamgirl28** who just recently celebrated a birthday! And I know that this story is a HUGE surprise!

o o o

Day 1: Early evening

New York, Independence Day 1923

The guest suite at the famous Ritz Carlton wasn't home, but it was close enough.

Reed fixed the last of the pins, securing the waves in their place as Mrs. Whitney rubbed lotion on her arms. Her two daughters entered her bedroom, hair already curled, lips rouged, and dresses glinting from the sunset outside their window. The girls took their seats on the chaise as their mother finished getting ready.

"It's a shame Martha couldn't be with us tonight, but she's probably having the time of her life in England," Mrs. Whitney sighed, "The Ritz Carlton always hosts the best parties. Her presence would liven things up a bit, don't you think so Flora?"

"Martha, yes. Harold, on the other hand, is too lively for his own good," the eldest daughter scoffed.

Gertrude rolled her eyes at her daughter's comment. She focused her attention to the petite maid in the mirror putting the finishing touches on her hair.

"Reed?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am?"

"You used to work for Mrs. Levinson, didn't you?"

Reed nodded her head and smiled proudly.

"I did," Reed responded.

"I know us Whitneys probably aren't nearly as fun as the Levinsons, but we have our moments. I grew up in Newport and when we were younger, Cora and I-"

"Ready mother?" the youngest one, Barbara, interrupted.

Gertrude turned around and looked at the clock at the corner of the room. 6:40 PM. She was ten minutes late.

"Oh gracious, look at the time. We're late. How terribly gauche of me," she said unhurriedly. Mrs. Whitney stood up from the chair and leisurely looked for her silk wrap all around the bedroom. Once found on the bed, Gertrude let her daughters out of the room and nearly left herself. Almost out the door, the lady of the house waited until the last minute to finish her thought from earlier.

"They all can wait," she said with a grin, "After all, I am a Vanderbilt."

She winked at Reed.

"Goodnight Reed. See you in the morning."

And with one click of the door, Reed was alone.

The Whitneys were taking a vacation from their summer holiday in Newport to spend Independence Day in the city. But instead of going to their home, Mr. Whitney decided to spend the week at the Ritz Carlton. Reed didn't mind. A room at the best hotel in town sounded much nicer than her room back at the mansion in midtown.

Although Newport was nice place to spend the summer holiday, Reed found that she couldn't stay there. She missed the bustle of the city. The streets burst into life in the morning. It was complete chaos, but it kept her mind busy. The sleepy streets in Newport made time inch by. With hardly anything to do, minutes stretched into hours and days felt like an eternity. The mind numbing boredom of Newport and the lure of a job as a ladies maid for the most powerful woman in Manhattan led her to quit as Mrs. Levinson's ladies maid. Though the decision was initially difficult, Reed knew that this was the path she needed to take. In the end, it all worked out for the best.

Reed picked up the last of the pins from the vanity and placed them back in the box. She started to organize the room, tidying up some of the clutter, smoothing out Mrs. Whitney's sheets, and rearranging the pillows on the chaise. The maids who would be coming in later wouldn't have much to do.

She left the bedroom and surveyed the guest suite for any signs of messiness. She swept across the room and found nothing out of place. With nothing else to do, she left the suite, making sure the door behind her was locked. Once satisfied, she took the elevator down to the third floor where she would be staying for the rest of the week.

Room 302: Her home away from home. She pulled out the room key and opened the door. It was about the same size as her room back at the mansion, but it was much nicer. She had a washroom all to herself, a view into the busy street, and most of all, peace and quiet. She flopped onto the bed and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of the soft cold pillow molding to the nape of her neck. Not wanting to fall asleep so soon, she willed herself to get up and change her clothes to something other than her uniform. She undressed and put on a simple short sleeved purple dress that stopped mid-calf. As she sat on the bed, putting her shoes on, the bomb of revelation hit her.

The Levinsons were in England.

Suddenly, she was back in Yorkshire, two years previous, outside in the dark, sharing one of the most incredible kisses with a certain red haired footman. It was a kiss that left her breathless, weak in the knees, and wanting more.

Reed tried to shake the memory out of her mind. She would never see him again. It was best not to think about him at all, forget him and move on. She locked him away, knowing that her first and only trip to England was the first and only time she would get to see him.

Once Reed stood up, the room felt much smaller, much more cramped. She opened the window to try and let some air in, but the summer air was heavy and still. She needed to get out.

Reed fled her room. She didn't bother with the elevator. Down two flights of stairs and the end of a corridor, she burst into the kitchens. Hot, bright, loud, busy. The kitchen was vast. Cooks everywhere were prepping for the Independence Day party frosting cakes, cutting vegetables, and handing trays of hors d'oeuvres to waiters anxiously waiting to send them up to the party. The frantic energy of the kitchen calmed her down and she was able to momentarily forget what she needed to get away from. The delicious smells of the kitchen swirled all around her and she realized that she hadn't eaten since noon. Her stomach growled as she proceeded to walk around the kitchen, no one noticing (or caring) that she was there. She found a lonely and unattended tray of assorted cheeses, cold cuts of meat, and crackers, in the corner of the kitchen and decided to sample a few. As she reached for a piece of cheese, she heard a shout from a chef behind her.

"Hey! Put that down! What are you doing?!"

She whirled around, trying to think of an excuse in the few precious nanoseconds of freedom she had left in the kitchen. She started to apologize…

"I'm just-"

…but it died in her throat as she saw the chef quickly approaching her. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly in utter disbelief.

He was in New York City. She wasn't imagining it.

It was him. Tall and lanky. Red hair. Green eyes. Different uniform.

He was still as handsome as she had last seen him, maybe even more so. He pulled his touqe off his head and held it in his hands. He looked older, much more mature, but as his smile started to grow, he looked every bit the young man she shared so many memories with her first and only time in England.

Alfred Nugent was here, in the flesh, only ten feet away from her.

She couldn't help but laugh.

"Funny seeing you here Alfred."

He let out a single laugh and grinned, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Lucy?"

o o o

A/N: I love Alfred and Reed. I love the culture clash between the two of them. It's a shame their relationship didn't really have the chance to bloom into something. No, it might not have worked out between them, but that possibility was never explored. All I know is, it didn't work with Ivy or Daisy, nor was I a fan of either pairing. Long live AlfReed!


End file.
